


A Bad Man

by anthonyedwardstark



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Interrogation, Murder, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1249825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthonyedwardstark/pseuds/anthonyedwardstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man is murdered and the Met's only suspect is his daughter. Sherlock Holmes sits in the interrogation room and deduces the truth. Dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Man

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](http://anthonyedwardstark.tumblr.com/).

Are you just going to sit there for another hour in silence? Because she's not going to talk to you just to fill the silence. -GL

Shut up, Lestrade. -SH

We've had psychologists in with her all day. She won't say a word. -GL

Shut up, Lestrade. -SH

You've been in there for 3 hrs. What are you waiting for, Sherlock? -GL

I'm waiting for midnight. Now shut up, Lestrade. -SH

Silence.

"It's midnight."

Silence.

"It's your birthday. Eighteen, I think? Old enough to vote and buy cigarettes. Old enough to have custody of a child."

Eye contact.

"You didn't kill your father, Cecilia."

Silence.

"I know who did kill him. And I know why you won't tell the police."

Blink.

"You love your brother. You care about his well being. He's the only person you have left. Your brother and your aunt and you. All that's left. No mummy or grandparents or uncles. Or father."

Swallow.

"But it's just past midnight and you are 18 now."

Blink.

"I know who did it and I know why you won't tell. You won't speak because you don't know who's right and who's wrong. There is no villain here. There were only good people involved in this murder."

Blink.

"Your father raped you."

Blink.

"He's done it many times over the past three years."

Blink.

"I know something about your father that nobody knows except you and me."

Blink.

"I know that you love your father. And I know that you think your father was a good man."

Eye contact.

"I know what you think. That he was good. And he was a man. And no man is a hero."

Eyebrows furrow.

"Heroes don't exist."

Head tilts.

"And neither do villains."

Licks lips.

"Your father loved you. Not the way he was supposed to, but he loved you nonetheless. He lost his wife and his parents and his brother in the course of one week. He dealt with it the only way he knew how. With alcohol and narcotics. He tried to be there for you, and for your brother. He kept going to work. He went to the shops. He made food. He showed up to your matches. And he showed up in your bedroom."

Swallows.

"When your father was killed, there were no heroes and there were no villains, were there? There were just people. Just ordinary, boring, stupid people. Boring people doing what they thought they needed to, doing what they thought had to happen."

"Yes."

"I know."

"Who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"How do you know so much?"

"I know who killed your father because I observe. It's my job. I'm a consulting detective. I checked your call history, text history and your voicemail. I smelled the perfume left in the air. I saw the photographs hanging on the wall."

"How do you know why I won't tell?"

"Because I saw the photos on the wall and I read the texts on your brother's phone. And that tells me all I need to know about how much you care for your brother."

Silence.

"I also know because my father was a good man too."

Silence.

Silence.

Silence

"Before he became a good man, he was a kind man. A nice man."

Averts eyes.

"But then my younger brother Sherrinford died and my older brother Mycroft left. And my mother withdrew from society and secluded herself. And then the kind man began to wither away. And a good man took his place. A man who tried to keep himself together, who tried to deal with so much loss. A man who was fueled by loneliness and sadness and bitterness and alcohol."

Bites lip.

"I look so much like my mother."

A sob.

"Do you look like your mother too, Cecilia?"

A single nod.

"You didn't kill your father."

"No. I didn't."

"Your aunt killed him."

A nod.

"She loves you very much. Your aunt, that is. You're the closest thing to her sister she has left. Because you look so much like her."

A tear.

"She left a voicemail on your mobile. She said she would be coming for dinner last night while your father was still at work. And your call history says that she called again yesterday evening."

A nod.

"She lives in Watford. She would've taken the M1 straight down. Yesterday evening there was horrible congestion on the M1. It would have taken her twice as long to get to London as it usually does. So she called to let you know she'd be late."

Sniffs.

"Your father came home early. Already drunk. He probably took you to your bedroom almost as soon as he walked through the door. You aunt walked in. And she grabbed your cricket bat and hit your father three times on the back of his head."

Rubs nose.

"When she realized he was dead, she didn't know what to do. So she drove back to her house. You called 999."

"...yeah."

"You didn't tell anyone what happened because you were worried for your brother."

A choked sob and a nod.

"If your aunt was in jail, your brother would have no where to go, no one to take care of him."

A tear.

"But Cecilia?"

"What?"

"It's 23 minutes past midnight. Your birthday. 18 years old, Cecilia. Old enough to be someone's legal guardian. Once your aunt is in custody, your brother will be brought here. You'll be responsible for him. He'll stay with you."

Sniffling.

"Tell the police what they want to know and you'll be released and given custody of your brother."

Nodding.

A chair scrapes across floor.

Eye contact.

"Happy Birthday, Cecilia."

"Thank you, Sherlock Holmes."

A door clicks shut.

Thanks for getting her to talk. -GL

Shut up, Lestrade. -SH

Her father wasn't a good man, Sherlock. And neither was yours. -GL

I know he was a bad man. But she doesn't understand that. I told her what she needed to hear. -SH

That was kind of you. -GL

Shut up, Lestrade. -SH

I'm sorry. I didn't know. -GL

You weren't to know. No reason to apologise. -SH

I'm still sorry. -GL

Goodnight, Lestrade. -SH

the end


End file.
